


( blame it on jane eyre. )

by Dearemma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - University, But I had fun writing it, F/M, Mack is the (1) man i trust in this world and it shows, anyway this is low key ridiculous, daisy is teaching bronte and stuff happens, there is a bone stealing sub plot, this technically can be classified as dark academia because, way too many bronte references for a work i pitched as:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearemma/pseuds/Dearemma
Summary: “Smiles and tears are so alike with me, they are neither of them confined to any particular feelings: I often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sad.”― Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell HallAnd because god hates her and she was born under an unlucky star, her day goes from bad to worse. Sousa uses this opportunity to approach them, giving Mack a friendly pat on the back before his gaze shifts to her burned hand, brown eyes filled with worry.“Are you okay?” his hand twitches by his side, struggling to stay in its place and not reach for her.“Yeah, didn’t you hear? I’m lucky you are such a nerd.” Jemma groans beside her, annoyed at Daisy’s incredible gift for twisting words for her own convenience.(aka: the professors au where Daisy is a certified mess and Daniel is just trying to get her attention)
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Comments: 25
Kudos: 75





	( blame it on jane eyre. )

Daisy would like to think she has changed a lot since her days as a student; the endless plaid shirts and goth makeup are gone, replaced by a normal amount of plaid and necklaces that don’t go _clunk_ when she walks.

Still, some things never change. 

The first day of class is filled with grumbling as she pulls into the university lot, mourning her mornings in bed and reintroducing herself to her caffeine addiction. But after two months away from the classroom and her friends, she can’t deny that there is a slight pep in her step as she enters the professor’s lounge.

It’s as busy and chaotic as ever, Fitz and Mack are bent over a shiny metal contraption, Mack’s dark steady hands, delicate and precise, adjust the platings on it according to Fitz’s instructions, with a push of his thumb the object finally comes together, a silvery light shining from inside. Jemma, perched on the couch behind them, offers some words of encouragement, before turning back to her book. May and Elena seem to be locked in an argument, hushed whispers that still travel the room, Law and Economics butting heads over some new piece of legislation.

Almost everyone is here, Coulson is of course probably in some meeting with parents or new faculty, his position as headmaster no longer allowing him to spend his downtime regaling them with some obscure history facts. Bobbi and Hunter pass by her, grinning quickly before returning to their argument. 

Without Coulson around, Daisy wonders who is going to keep the peace here. Last year was, to put it mildly, a bit of a catastrophe. Between her, Mack and May, they had been able to eventually instill some peace; but she didn’t think all that extra effort was worth the headaches she got from making sure Deke didn’t trip and ruin another one of Professor Sousa’s leather bound notebooks.

 _Speaking of the devil_ \-- pouring herself another generous cup of coffee, Daisy scanned the room again, trying very hard not to pretend she wasn’t doing that, because technically she didn’t care about Daniel Sousa and whether he was here or not. But it was very unlike him, he was usually the first one here.

It was in her second scan that she finally found him, eyes bulging when she realized why she had skipped over him before. 

That was… different.

A **very good** different.

He had been cute last year. In his sweaters and curly hair, introducing himself as one of Coulson’s replacements (everyone always had the feeling Coulson taught way too many classes, but it was only after they realized they needed to hire three professors to replace just one, that they truly understood the level of Coulson’s mania and nerdiness). His fashion choices were slightly questionable, not exactly what she usually went for (leather, tight shirts, dark jeans were usually her type), but he made the whole nerdy professor thing work for him.

She had liked it.

_(Yeah, she developed a small crush on him. Nothing big. Seriously.)_

But if she tried hard enough, she could ignore him and his stupid yellow sweaters. 

This new look though, it made continuing on with her plan impossible. He had gotten a trim, the shorter look drawing attention to his perfectly cut jaw, not to mention silver now peppered his temples, giving him a more distinguished look. It was hot. It was really hot. Letting her eyes drift down, she was only mildly surprised by the suspenders, it was the exact sort of square thing he would wear. The shirt though, that was incredibly new. Gone were the sweaters that hid his upper body. The blue shirt sharpened all the lines of his arms, each muscle. She knew he had been in the army, she remembered the haunted look in his eyes as he told about his experience over a cup of tea, but she had never considered he had the body to show for it.

He was chatting comfortably with Deke, doing nothing spectacular except existing looking like that. It was very distracting. He craned his neck to understand whatever image he was seeing on Deke’s phone, giving her a spectacular peak at his collarbones. The descriptions in the novels she was teaching this semester suddenly made a lot more sense -- how one peak at new skin could send your body burning, your imagination drifting to what else could be hidden. 

Daisy felt her whole body flush, her hand growing hotter and hotter until it overwhelmed her. “Shit, shit, shit.” Sousa wasn’t causing the skin to burn up, the burning hot coffee was. The mug falls to the ground with a loud crack, hot coffee spreading through the ground as she starts jumping up and down.

“Ha! Pay up, I wasn’t the first one to have an accident!” Fitz’s Scottish brogue breaks through the room, making everyone chuckle. Jemma clicks her tongue and takes Daisy’s (uninjured) hand and guides her to the couch so she can take a look at the burn, tutting at Mack and Fitz’s smiling faces. 

“It’s not so bad.” Jemma’s delicate fingers examine her skin. Like Mary Poppins, she takes item after item from her tiny purse, until Daisy’s hand is clean, covered in a weird-smelling ointment, and expertly wrapped. “You should keep it covered, it would technically be better to let it breathe, but I don’t want it getting inflamed.” They start arranging for a time to meet tonight so Jemma can wrap her hand again, and soon half of the professors in the room have piped in and a simple meeting turned into a visit to the bar, to celebrate the start of the new term.

“You’re lucky,” Jemma remarks, earning a scoff from Daisy, she doesn’t feel lucky, her hand stings and no one is going to let her forget this for a while. “Yes, you are. Daniel got here quite early and made the coffee, this would have been a lot worse if it was hotter.”

This new piece of information plays perfectly into her ‘Sousa is the worst’ fantasy. She had already been cursing him in her head for distracting her.

And because god hates her and she was born under an unlucky star, her day goes from bad to worse. Sousa uses this opportunity to approach them, giving Mack a friendly pat on the back before his gaze shifts to her burned hand, brown eyes filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” his hand twitches by his side, struggling to stay in its place and not reach for her. 

“Yeah, didn’t you hear? I’m lucky you are such a nerd.” Jemma groans beside her, annoyed at Daisy’s incredible gift for twisting words for her own convenience.

Sousa stares at her, unfazed. Possibly already expecting that. It’s their relationship now; he extends a hand, she makes a sarcastic remark without being able to look at him, and an awkward silence surrounds them. Like, right now. They all stare at each other (except for Daisy who has a new found admiration for the ratty rug under her feet) for a few more seconds before he breaks the silence. “I should go. Got a class to teach and all that. See you all later.” The rest of the group have no such qualms and see him off with a smile, Fitz reminding him he needs to share the story behind an Instagram pic.

When he is gone, all eyes return to her.

“Don’t say it,” she mumbles, falling back against the couch. 

“Daisy, he was being nice! Why are you always like that around him?” Jemma admonishes.

“You are being childish.” comes from Fitz.

“You really are an idiot.” is all that Mack has to say before he leaves, Elena showing up at his side in the blink of an eye to walk with him to class. 

Mack wasn’t wrong, she was an idiot, but her mistake wasn’t her actions today, it’s what she allowed herself to feel ten months ago. 

Perhaps it was a good thing he had a makeover during the summer. The soft sweaters conveyed the image of a good guy, and now he finally looked like the rip your heart out, fuckboy that he actually is.

Good guys don’t lead you on. Good guys don’t walk you back to your apartment in the rain and say they want to have dinner with you the next day, press a lingering kiss to your cheek, and look at your lips like they are desperate to kiss them on Thursday, just to be caught in an embrace with another woman on Friday. 

That’s the sort of guy Daniel Sousa actually is. And she is the only person who knows it.

Standing up, she grabs her bag and turns to Fitz, humor dancing in her eyes. “You are the one who whooped when I got hurt. Which means -- you’re paying for my drinks tonight.” 

__

  
  


Three weeks into the term, Daisy starts to feel comfortable with her new routine. Her hand injury is just a phantom ache now (though, she did hold over the fact they _giggled_ when she got hurt over Fitz and Mack’s head for two more weeks -- her bank account thanks them for their generosity). 

As a literature professor, Daisy knows her students, even the ones who love her. After all, she did have one of the longest reading lists of the semester. But nothing in her career prepared her for the chaos that ensued on a sunny tuesday morning.

It was a class like any other, she had been explaining the historical context of the next period they were going to get into; quick clips of movies set in that area intermingling with her technical monologue, her latest tactic to keep the students excited. 

And it seemed to be working. The more attentive students had a gleam in their eyes, already thinking about what they could title their tem papers, and the less attentive ones seemed to like the movie clips. 

And then she said Anne Bronte, and all hell broke loose.

Five hands immediately shot up, telling her she was wrong and she meant Charlotte Bronte. An edgy girl in the corner snarked and said she hoped it was Emily Bronte, and while Daisy enjoyed passion from her students, the ensuing argument, Emily _versus_ Charlotte, with scathing comments about Anne intermingled from time to time. 

Most, _correctly,_ argued that Charlotte was a better example of the context they were going into, that she tapped into the changing times, the anxiety of a country that had been so long dominated by the southern gentry and their long family lines, seeing nobodies from the north rise at alarming rates. _Miss Johnson made a mistake, and she meant to say we are reading Shirley by Charlotte Bronte._

Others, bringing excellent points as well, pointed to the lyricism of Emily’s writing, how it challenged social class, that it also delved into economic interests (the destruction of the respectable farming class by the economic interests of the capitalist Heathcliff and the landed gentry represented by Lindon -- _Miss Johnson! It gives a more accurate and full portrayal of the time!)_ Not to mention the hurricane that is Catherine, and the exploration of the patriarchal society she is forced to live in. _Miss Johnson made a mistake, and she meant to say we are reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte._

Of course, there were some voices of dissension, but sadly for Daisy, they weren’t in defense of Anne, but arguing that the Bronte sisters were terrible writers, and that they should read Charles Dickens instead. _(Reader, I’ll let you guess the gender of those students)_

It had taken her a while to get the class back into their seats, explaining that they were all right (except the ones who dismissed the Bronte sisters immediately, they were all wrong), but she hadn’t misspoken and they were going to read The Tenant of Windfell Hall. Emily and Charlotte tapped into the souls of society, of women and men and laid it bare in their novels for the world to see; Anne, whose writing wasn’t as strong, did something even more incredible.

Anne changed minds, she changed women’s lives, she wrote about a woman leaving her husband, with her child in tow, during a time where she had no rights to do so. Her son belonged to her husband, it didn’t matter that he was abusive. Helen Graham left a terrible situation with nothing more than her wits and talent and made a living for herself. It also, she added, much to the chagrin of a lot of the girls (and boys), showed what it would actually be like to be married to _Mr. Dark, Tall and Handsome_.

 _Mr. DTH_ may be the most charming man in existence during courting, but what happens when the curtains are drawn and their true nature is exposed? She left the question hanging in the air, pleased to see she had captured the curiosity of a few students. She knew now some would read it as a chore, which is something she always tries to avoid.

How was she supposed to know her students had such passion for the Bronte sisters? She half expected them not to know who Anne was!

After pointing them in the direction of a few bookstores nearby that carried the book, and a pdf for those who didn’t have the money, she dismissed the class, waiting until the last student left before collapsing in her chair, exhausted from the discussion.

She needed a drink. Badly.

“Bit hard to read, the format of the book leaves something to be desired, but the scene with the door...” his voice sent a shock to her system, breaking her out of her pathetic state. Running a hand through her hair, Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into her chair, watching Sousa slowly approach her. “That still felt important revolutionary for a boy growing up in the middle of rural Idaho.”

“It’s still revolutionary.” if you just modernize the language, the customs and the settings, and not a lot has changed. “It still sucks to be a woman, and it's not religion anymore telling us we need to reform the bad boy, it's the media we consume.” Helen was one of her favorite heroines, she felt so real, the way she stumbled into a terrible romance, how she missed the warning signs, not knowing the danger she was in, until everyone she loved had been ripped away from her; half of her friends had been Helen at one point in their lives. She had been Helen. 

“And I know that someone is going to say in class -- that it only matters in _third world countries,_ we live in America, women aren’t stuck like this anymore. Except they are -- their husbands have full control over their bank accounts, if they try to leave they don’t have a penny to their names and they can’t take care of their children.” 

“Hey, hey, I know.” she was ready to snap, having heard guys say things like that a thousand times, always ready to add -- _I’m not like that though_. To say they are different, but his face held none of that cockiness, simply understanding. “I get it, which is why I think you are going to like what I’m about to suggest.”

Clearing her throat, she tried to shake herself out of the memory loop she had entered. And Sousa provided a nice, ( _pretty_ ), distraction. “What?” 

“I’m discussing a similar time period than you in one of my classes, and I wanted to bring in a guest lecturer to give some focus on what it was like to be a woman during those times. One of my students from last year suggested it, saying she liked my focus on the working classes, but that I only focused on the struggle of the white working class families. I think she’s right. I started talking to an old friend, Nakia, she is a professor at Wakanda’s Royal University and she agreed to give some lectures on the 19th century.” a small smile curled at the corner of her lips when he said he took a student’s suggestion to heart; she barely glanced at them usually, but of course he would do exactly what Coulson ordered them to do -- read every single paper and implement some changes.

_What a nerd._

“Sounds like you have a plan there already, what do you need me for?”

“Well, considering she is an expert in this period, I think she has probably worked with some of the novels you will be studying this semester. If you send her the list, she can bring a fresh perspective -- she told me she wouldn’t mind adding one more lecture if it was necessary -- and we can make this a joint project between the History and the Literature department.”

There it was. His plan was well throughout, and Coulson might even agree to it, but the way his eyes glanced at her at the end, told her the truth. Sure, her students would benefit from Professor Nakia visiting (its Nakia! Daisy is using one of her papers later on in the term! She is a legend!), but something else drove him here.

Not realizing he had been caught, he continued. “I’m sure you are going to touch on Gaskell and Dickens later on in the term, a good understanding of the industrial revolution and how deeply it changed society is needed --”

Daisy leaned forward, interrupting him, a smirk crowning her lips. “And I’m Coulson’s favorite.”

“ -- If two departments can benefit from the lecture, I believe it will be easier to get the funding.” he continued, he looked straight at her, unafraid, but at least he had had the decency to blush. 

“And I’m Coulson’s favorite.” she repeated, enjoying this conversation a lot more. “You think that if the offer comes from me, he will say yes more quickly.”

“It won’t hurt.” he seems more comfortable now that the truth has been revealed. How strange, she thought he would be so comfortable with lying to her after the trick he pulled last year. “I also think that it will benefit your students. Give them a more broad understanding of the period.”

After the chaos that erupted today, Daisy had to agree. They were very set on their opinions, born out of reading their favorite novels and some basic research that didn’t challenge their opinions.

“Yeah, they could use the help. But I still saw right through your game.”

He rolled his eyes at her, chuckling quietly. “And I would really like it if you could come to my class one of these days. Some of my students seem to think fiction is beneath them. Think you can set them straight?”

If she didn’t like the idea so much, she might have waited a day, at least a few minutes before nodding. But she always enjoyed yelling at history majors. “I’ll make some time for that. Before Professor Nakia gets here?”

“That would be best, but it's not a done deal, we still need to talk to Coulson.” she waved him off, grabbing her things. Coulson would eat this up -- his protege and his successor working together? At a student’s suggestion? To bring in a brilliant mind like Nakia’s? She had to give Sousa some props, his plan was basically fool proof. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Send me a copy of the proposal when you’re done, I’ll read it over and send it to Coulson.” Grinning, she suddenly realized she had been looking directly at him during this entire conversation, feeding off his smiles and laughs, allowing herself to relax.

Her stomach dropped, the smile falling from her face. She was going to have to do something about that before they met again, she couldn’t let him in again.

Adjusting the strap of her bag, she pushed herself off the table. “I need to get to my next class. See you around Sousa.” 

She skitters off the room, pleased she saw right through him, but worried at her own reaction. Lost in her thoughts, she missed how his eyes were glued to her until she disappeared, and the tiny relieved smile that slowly appeared on his lips. Of course getting her involved in the project will make things easier with Coulson _(she is his favorite after all_ ), but that wasn’t why he wanted to work with her.

__

  
  


“Did I miss it?”

“No!” four voices reply quickly, shushing Fitz, as he crouches down next to Jemma, eyes trained on the entrance the students would be spilling in from soon. And with any luck, Hunter and Bobbi would be among them, wheeling a treasure in their direction.

Universities are full of traditions. Some more formal, most an excuse to get drunk and have sex, but SHIELD University was blessed with one of the weirdest and most complex traditions ever seen. Everyone on campus went along with it, it was a funny little event and it only lasts three days. The old administration had no sense of humor, professors joining in was unthinkable, but with Coulson in charge now, they decided to give the students a taste of their own medicine. 

Now, to be sure, some of them were regretting their choice now. Hidden behind a bush, their pants getting soiled by the wet grass, made this whole adventure lose some of its glamour. But Bobbi and Hunter were already in, it was too late to back out now; they just hoped they had been able to break into the science classroom before any of the students.

“Are they in yet?” without rustling any leaves or making any sound, May was suddenly crouching between Elena and Jemma, almost sending all of them to an early grave from a heart attack, and almost blowing their cover. Mack had to hold Fitz down, Jemma immediately slapping her hand into his mouth to keep him from yelling.

“Not yet. Bobbi’s last text said they were waiting for the janitor to leave.” Daisy whispered, helping Fitz up. She was kinda jealous of Bobbi and Hunter, she wanted to be the one to steal the bones but they drew the shortest sticks -- the fact they both got to go in didn’t sit right with her, she was sure they ( _read: Hunter_ ) had somehow rigged the game. It was all too convenient. 

“Good, I walked around the squad and there are two groups of students also getting ready to break in. They better be quick.” The leaves rustled as someone new joined them, the noise saving them for another heart attack. The wooden cane revealed the identity of their new companion. 

Sousa crouched down next to Daisy, his grimace well hidden behind an excited smile. “Are they in yet?” He has the sense to speak quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, though Daisy wishes he had yelled and blown their cover then hearing him speak so close to her ear. It was her constant battle, trying to remain indifferent to him but losing the second he was close.

“No.” she shakes her head, risking one quick look at him, eyes immediately drawn to his arms -- the new shirts were really something else, she still hasn't gotten used to how well they fit him. His arms were tense, muscles drawn tight as he tried to keep himself still. It can't be an easy, or comfortable position for him.

Daniel wouldn't miss this for the world. Last year, no one gave him any warning, they just allowed him to walk into class one day, full of plans just to be met with the weirdest sight of his life. Even the army could not have prepared him for this. When the idea started floating around in the lounge last week, he had been one of the first to sign up, helping Mack plan the break in. If stealth wasn't necessary, he would have been the first one in.

“God, I wish I was inside.” 

“Me too.” she whispered back, smiling slightly at the jealousy and impatience in his tone. She felt the exact same way, every minute that dragged on, she felt more tempted to just stand up and go in.

“Next year, I don’t care about what the stick game says, I’m the one going in.” shaking his head, he leans closer, before whispering. “What are the odds Bobbi and Hunter are making out right now? They should have been out already.”

“One hundred percent.” It was just like them to get distracted ( _read: Hunter gets distracted and drag Bobbi into his plans_ ) and forget about their plan. “I just hope they aren’t doing it in front of _the you know what._ ”

“I don’t think it would mind.” he replies with a grin.

A crash coming from the science building briefly stops their conversation, all of them craning their necks to see what happened - _the first victim of the frisbee players._ The poor freshman was sprawled on the floor, books spread all around her, a dazed look in her eyes as a bunch of guys surrounded her, apologizing profusely.

“Poor girl.” Daisy murmurs as she leans back, the tension leaving her shoulders. She was sure it was Bobbi and Hunter dropping it. “And yes, I know it can’t see. But I wanna be able to look at Bobbi in the eye tomorrow. I don’t want to kinkshame her… but I’m going to have to kinkshame her if that’s the case.” she holds back her laughter until she finishes speaking, but by the end her cheeks are flushed and she has to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing.

At least Daniel isn’t doing so much better, his lips are pressed in a tight white line, brown eyes overflowing with laughter, basically begging to be allowed to let go. A quick giggle escapes her lips at his tortured expression.

The small noise breaks the tension. “This would have been much easier if I had a monkey.” Fitz quipped from his corner, his absolute inability to control his voice making a few students nearby turn to look in their direction. “It could be in and out in under a minute!” The only movement from behind the bush was Jemma once again covering her boyfriend’s mouth with her hand. 

They all released a big sigh of relief when the students returned to their work, they had all frozen in their spots, less worried now about winning, more worried about the jokes the students would make if they caught a bunch of their professors having a weird meeting behind a bush. 

Mack turned to them, brow furrowed, sporting his best disappointed father expression, making all of them mumble, this time very quietly, their apologies. “Thank you. Now, you better all shut up, I don’t want to lose to the students. We are stealing Jack Thompson’s bones.”

  
  


__

“To Hunter and Bobbi!” 

“And to Jack Thompson!” Hunter yelled as people toasted.

The Lighthouse, one of the only bars not dominated by students that was close to the university, was packed tonight. Professors from all departments had heard that for the first time in sixty years, the bones were in their possession. Laughter flowed freely, department fights were forgotten as plans were made and gossip was shared.

“May he rest in peace and may I use his bones to get me out of teaching class to watch the World Cup final!” Hunter continued, ignoring the jeers and suggestions. Since he and Bobbi retrieved the bones, they got to choose one of the three dates they were going to be used, the others were putting the other dates up for a vote. 

Daisy, who had already made her voice heard ( _she wanted to go to a tech conference in november_ ) was sitting in a booth with Mack and Elena, half listening to their conversation, half listening to the conversation behind her, where Deke was struggling to explain the intricacies of the tradition to a new professor -- _this student, Jack Thompson, he was one of the worst students the University ever had. No respect, horrible grades and attendance. My kind of guy you know? Well, he was drafted into World War 2 and as a sick twisted joke, decided to donate his skeleton to the University in case something happened to him. It did. Well, the first year, the students who grabbed his bones did it in protest, because they felt the school wasn’t honoring veterans enough, and they dressed up his skeleton in uniform and dismissed all the classes. Now you get where I’m going with this… Well, it became a tradition. Someone steals the skeleton and dismisses classes. Over the years, an unspoken rule appeared -- only three days. Are you going to eat that burger?_

“ -- and I’m just saying, I think Mike Schur based his character on me.” She had completely turned herself off from the conversation at the table, but she was well acquainted with the subject and it was one of her favorite drunk!Mack rants. Mack and Elena seemed to be involved in a passionate discussion, Elena threw her head back and laughed, _tsking_ at what her boyfriend was saying.

“Let me get this straight -- just because Chidi is also an ethics professor, black and dating a much shorter woman, you think the writer based him on you?” Elena teased, poking his chest, clearly drunk.

“Don’t forget ripped.” 

Elena continues unconvinced, it's a lousy argument and she tells him so. Besides -- “Chidi is indecisive, you are just slow Turtleman.” 

“I’m with Elena on this. I would not give my students a passing grade with such a lousy structured argument. Come back with something else and we can talk.” taking a swing of her beer, she smiles into the rim as her words start a new round of debate, Mack passionately defending his thesis while Elena delighted herself by poking holes into his arguments, twisting his words with the ease of a woman who has spent years dominating a courtroom.

As is her custom when she finds herself third wheeling, most of her friends are in committed relationships while she remains single, save for a disastrous date here and there. When their flirting kicks up a notch, she lets her eyes wander around the room to give them some privacy, until they find the object of her fascination -- Daniel Sousa, leaning against the bar, chatting amiably with Coulson (about something incredibly nerdy she is sure).

The top buttons of his shirt are undone again, the tight fit giving her a great view of her chest. 

How his students learn anything is a wonder. 

An exasperated Mack turns to Daisy to get her to tell Yo-Yo that Schur did visit the University a few years ago to talk to someone in the history department, but stops himself just in time to observe his best friend ogling the guy she is always complaining about. The girl is biting her lip for god’s sakes, and she swears she can’t stand him. “Smooth, real smooth.” he grins at the way her eyes widen, all doe eyed and red cheeked at being caught leering at the history professor.

“Why is Daisy, _oh._ Of course.” they share a look, before turning to Daisy, identical smirks on their lips.

_Crap._

“You should talk to him, I never got what happened between you guys, one day you were chummy, and the next you were ignoring him. Poor boy, kept looking at you like a lost _perro_ for weeks.” 

“You’re telling me -- I was ready to collect all the bets I had on you, and don’t even try to look scandalized Daisy, I know about the one you had with Trip about my relationship. Instead, I had to help Hunter move in with Bobbi, _again._ ” Daisy shuts her mouth, knowing the whole routine about her personal life being hers would not work on him, he was too stubborn to let her weasel out of answering his questions.

They weren’t wrong, things changed between her and Daniel from one day to the next. They were on the verge of something one day, and the next she couldn’t look at him in the face. Now that months had passed, she knew she had overreacted, that what he did to him was wrong, icing him out of her life without any explanation.

Her pride had been wounded though. They weren’t even together, they were just close friends, but it was in the subtext of everything they did, all of their interactions were filled with half spoken words, they knew they were walking towards something together, that it was only a matter of time. The air crackled and the pauses between their words grew heavier and everyday it had been hard not to lean over and kiss him as they sat in each other’s offices, grading papers and sharing stories.

“Things just fizzled out, I guess.” Daisy shrugged, taking another swing of her beer, risking another look at Daniel. He was still engrossed in his conversation with Coulson, even from across the room, she could see how much fun he was having. For all of her stolen glances, it was rare to get a chance to see him so relaxed and smiling. She had missed it. “One day things were… you know, happening and the next they weren’t. It happens, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Things fizzled out?” Mack echoed, not believing a word that was falling from her lips. 

“Yeah, they fizzled out. Not everyone is like you and Elena, you guys are meant to be, written in the stars, all that fairytale crap. I belong to another genre, the heroine ends up alone, and she is okay with that.”

“Bullshit.” Elena says.

“It’s what happened, I don’t know what you guys want to hear.” perhaps the truth -- that the same lips that had almost brushed against yours, were on another woman’s forehead the next day. How she had seen Daniel cradle the mystery woman’s face like it was a precious jewel.

Daniel loved that woman, and Daisy felt insignificant compared to that.

That very same day, she started running from him, wiping away the easy banter they had developed. She boxed up all of the things he had left in her office, she was proud that when she found his dark sweater draped over a pile of books, she just put it in the box, she didn’t smell it or hold it against her cheek to see if it was soft as it looked; she wasn’t a trembling protagonist in a romance novel. She was Daisy Johnson, and she refused to play second fiddle to someone else’s romance.

Running had once been natural to her. Running from the cops, running from abusive families, running from her feelings and responsibilities until they came crashing down on her. It wasn’t hard to revert to that last year, just like it wasn’t hard for her today to grab a twenty from her purse, drop it in front of Mack. 

“For my drinks.”

“Come on Daisy, don’t leave.” he protested as she stood up but it was no good, she was gone before he could finish his sentence.

“Turtleman.” Elena uttered, resting a hand on his arm. “Let her figure things out. Give her time. You figured it out didn’t you? She will do it.”

Mack smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her middle. “Yeah, but I was interested in you, and you are as subtle as a sledgehammer. Sousa won’t make a move if he thinks Daisy isn’t interested, and she is going to pretend to not be interested for the rest of her life if she keeps this up.”

“Give them until the end of the year. I’ll lock them in a closet myself if they haven’t gotten things together by then.” 

“You got them getting together after Christmas, huh?”

__

Drumming her fingers against her thigh, Daisy tried very hard not to let her frustration show. She was fifteen minutes late and from the noise coming from inside the hall, he had no intentions of stopping. It was her own fault (yes, she could admit that). She knew mentioning that her projector had stopped working with Jemma would mean Fitz would know about it before the day was over, and that Fitz is a sweetheart and would not take no for an answer ‘ _It's fine Daisy, a simple repair. Though, you know what.... I could rig this up and make it show 4k quality, I just need to…_ ’ He is a genius, smartest guy she’s ever met. But while the ideas may sound beautiful when they are falling from his lips, they have this annoying tendency of blowing up later. 

  
  


She should have asked Mack for help.

But she was currently ignoring him after their conversation at the bar. He always saw right through her, it was annoying. 

Her classroom was now closed off for the foreseeable future, and her classes are happening in whatever room is available for that time slot.

It would just be nice if Sousa could stick to his schedule. 

Stepping away from her students, Daisy walked over to the other entrance, slipping in quietly. As annoyed as she was with him, she couldn't deny he was an amazing lecturer. Sousa was engaging, open, and his dorkish sense of humor did things to her. She could see the muscles on his arms flex, as he leaned on his cane. It was much easier to ignore her crush on him when he dressed like an accountant.

He gave each student his full attention as they asked questions, his answers thoughtful, concise and funny. She found herself laughing along with the students as he described the ridiculous actions of the british gentry as they saw their power diminishing as the industrial revolution took force.

A student near her shot up their hand, his eyes briefly stopped there before moving up, catching sight of her. She expected to be embarrassed at having been caught; but his gaze was soft, warm and inviting, she wouldn’t mind pulling up a chair and listening to him talk a little more. Except -- she had a class to teach.

“We have a guest today.” he greeted, laughing as she gave him a cheeky little wave. 

“I should say that about you, Professor Sousa.” realization dawned on him slowly, he looked down at his watch and muttered something under his breath, she was too far away to listen and her lip reading skills had never been the best. She wondered if he cursed; he didn’t seem like the type. He was in the army for nearly a decade though, maybe he was more comfortable with cursing than she gave him credit for. She wanted to know the answer to that, and she hated herself for it.

Sousa had the decency to look ashamed as he dismissed his students, apologizing for running the class late, treating them to a rare week without a reading assignment. 

Meeting him at the desk, she waved off his apologies, not allowing him to get a word in. “Seriously, it’s no problem. And the students actually looked interested, which is always nice.” he had few things to pick up, while she had dozens to put on the desk and set up; a thousand little gadgets she picked up, her classes were the unpredictable sort. “And I enjoyed it.”

Though, probably not as much as she enjoyed the pleased look on his face right now. 

He really was very cute. 

“Your students shouldn’t be deprived of your class because I can’t stop talking.” 

“Believe me, they were probably thankful. I’m a stickler for the rules,” she ignored his scoff, “and always finish my class on time. This means less learning. They are going to love that.”

“I’ll do better next time.” even with the twinkling eyes and smile, his words were solemn, he took stealing time from her class seriously, he took everything seriously. 

“You’ll make it up to me, don’t worry.” it was easier now, to fall back on their old banter, their discussions on bringing Nakia here repairing part of their friendship. It was still beats off at the intimate talks they had last year, but it was something. It was something good.

“Maybe I can buy --” his words were interrupted by a student clearing their throat, looking away from Daniel, she suddenly remembered the dozens of students that had been in the hallway waiting with her. They were all watching their conversation, leaning forward to catch something worth gossiping about. 

They were at a respectable distance from each other. _Sort of,_ there was nothing scandalous happening and yet she took a step back, just to be safe. Squaring up her shoulders, she shot him a wink before turning her attention to the students.

“Nice to see you all paying attention!” clapping her hands, the lights dimmed and the projector flared to life, a portrait of Charlotte Bronte falling over Daniel. “Say goodbye to Professor Sousa, and say hello to Charlotte Bronte and her novel Shirley. I know all of you enjoyed Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South, or at least the miniseries --” 

__

Despite all her bravado about how easy it would be to get Coulson to approve (and truly, it was, he was practically vibing in his seat when Daisy and Daniel finished their presentation), getting Professor Nakia here and making sure her trip was a great success was another story.

“What if we just --”

Daniel interrupts her with a long suffering sigh, not even looking up from his book, already knowing full well where this was going. He had heard variations of this several times the past few weeks. “No, Daisy. We can’t just _wing it,_ no matter how well you think you do it. I like a little preparation please.”

Leaning back on her chair, Daisy decides to take pity on him and changes the subject (she will go back to it eventually, loving the way the muscles in his jaw tensed every time he uttered her name in annoyance). She just generally loved hearing him say her name.

Or speak really.

As the weeks passed, the two of them having frequent meetings in offices and coffee houses around campus to iron out all of the details, she stopped feeling so nervous around him. It would be a lie to say she had forgotten how good it was to talk to him, she could remember it quite clearly, but she had forgotten the smaller details; how vast his knowledge was, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and the warmth that spreads all over her body when he shifts his whole focus to her.

It was easy to forget to work because he wanted to share an article he read, and she never had the heart to say no to him when he was all giddy and nerdy, buzzing with energy because it proved something else he read was right and this could change a field of knowledge forever! Coulson once described him as a professor first, a historian second, that he was a professor because he loved knowledge, and that history just ended up being his first passion; he could hold his own while discussing physics with Fitz, and then turn around and ask Jemma an incredibly specific question about chemistry. And he read so much.

If she wanted to discuss a book she was teaching, she didn’t have to explain it a lot to him -- he either knew the book or the author. 

“I had forgotten how much you read. I think you might have read everything I’m teaching this year.” she commented once. They rarely spoke of their former friendship and the way she disappeared from his life. She couldn’t look at him as she spoke, and she missed the blush that spread through his cheeks.

While he did read a lot, he had swiped a copy of her syllabus and read or reread everything there, even the optional listings. He had been a little desperate to find something to talk to her about, but he didn’t need to worry, conversation flowed easily between them.

__

When the day finally came, Daisy felt like a kid before a school trip. She didn’t sleep a wink, but she was feeling energized. 

The path to Daniel’s office was as familiar as the path to hers by now, and though it was way too early, she found him there, sorting through papers, his lips sporting the same manic grin as hers.

“Ready?” bouncing on the balls of her feet, Daisy closes the door behind her. This is the biggest event she has sponsored, everything she had acted in a secondary position, helping the other professors of the literature department to organize their pitches and act as a sounding board. This though, it was the sort of thing she could later publish a paper on.

“Her plane is landing in half an hour, she will be here in one hour.” they had gone through the schedule seven times yesterday, its practically ingrained into her brain but she nods at the reminder. 

It’s so close, she can barely believe it. 

After week after week of preparation, endless discussions, late nights curled in the couch in this very office, sharing a drink with Daniel, musing over whether the students would even appreciate all their hard work, and it was finally here.

“I’m terrified. I think there will be no students there, even though I told my students a thousand times to come. We did the whole social media blast thing, right? We checked on someone else’s phone to make sure it actually went. And the room is reserved, I’m not going to have to fight Lance today because we are double booked, you know he is going to pull the whole -- I got Jack Thompson’s bones and therefore I get to order people around.” 

Putting the papers in his briefcase, Daniel walks over to her, resting his hands on the top of her arms, his thumb caressing her shoulder. It’s small, a comforting gesture all of her friends have done at one point or another to relax her when she starts getting too nervous and rambly; so it shouldn’t make her melt and instantly relax her, and yet when she looks up at him, at his confident smile, she is sure everything will work out.

“Let me guess, it’s going to be fine?” she asks, breathing out a small sigh.

“Everything is going to be fine.”

They stay like that, standing close together, breathing each other in, enjoying the calm before the storm. Her eyes flicker to his lips. She considers kissing him, she had thought of doing it several times the past few weeks, but she never could get over that moment last year, always drawing back at the last second.

This time, she doesn’t get the chance to agonize over whether she is doing the right thing. 

His hands rise up to frame her face, calloused fingers caressing her cheeks, the touch impossibly delicate. She is frozen to the spot, her breath caught in her throat, but when he leans in to kiss her, she meets him halfway. 

It starts off innocently, just the feather touch of his lips against hers. It still sets her ablaze, it starts from the places he is touching her -- her lips, her face, and it quickly spreads across her body. He pulls back for a moment, a question half formed on his lips, _is this okay?_ But she can’t bear waiting any longer, unwilling to let another moment slip away. Her fingers curl into his suspenders to tug him closer, kissing him hard.

Like in everything else, Daniel kisses her with his whole attention. He slowly backs her into the wall, body melding against hers, surrounding her completely, until all she can smell and touch is him. She tugs at his shirt, not content yet, wanting him closer, wanting to wrap herself around him. His hands shift, one of them cradling the back of her head, the other slipping down to her waist. It’s intimate, and secure and she loses herself to him, giving him everything she’s got. When he tries to draw back, she tilts her head, deepening the kiss, as daring and impetuous as ever, all worries and misgivings momentarily pushed back to her mind.

She had wondered that night, almost one year ago, what it would have been like to kiss Daniel. The thought came back sometimes, unbidden, curling into her mind until it was all she could think about. She had dreamt of passion, of laughter between kisses, even that he would be a bad kisser; never had she truly foreseen what it was like to be in his arms. He is warm and attentive, hands dancing along her body, burning her skin, but never straying to where she desperately needs him, fingers only dancing at the edges.

“Daisy.” he draws back with a pant, her name a caress as he kisses her temple. “I had no idea I was going to do that.” His confession brings a sweet smile to her lips.

“That was nice.” she presses her thumb against his collarbone, caressing the skin there. “I’m glad you did.”

His next words, spoken so softly that they are a barely whisper, this sweet unsure confession, that should have melted her heart, instead makes her jump out of his arms. “I thought you didn’t like me, I was so sure… when you stopped talking to me months ago --”

Her throat clenched.

Daniel. The woman. The way he had looked at her the day before like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, the kiss he pressed to her cheek, how she had been a second from tugging him into her apartment when he drew away. The fact she knew he would have followed her in. How she saw him the next day, hugging another woman tightly in the middle of the courtyard.

They weren’t even dating, but she had felt so sure of his honesty and goodness, that she had fallen in love between one heartbeat and the next, and her heart had been broken just as fast.

Daisy pulled away from him, bolting with wide scared eyes. Air felt scarce, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Scared of him and what he could do to her, that he would hurt her again. 

“Daisy --” he steps closer to her, clearly confused, but she draws back.

And then, she runs.

__

Daisy runs with the practiced ease of someone who has never felt the ground was steady beneath her, feet barely scraping the ground, going faster and faster as she rounded the still empty hallways. Time hadn’t passed outside of Daniel’s office, students were still waking up and working up the courage to face the day, while Daisy felt like her whole world had changed.

When she had run away from him the year before, she didn’t know what it was like to kiss him. She didn’t know how warm his hands felt on her body, or how he could light her up with the barest touch.

How was she going to move on from this again?

So, she ran.

Ran fast and hard until she found the one person who could hold her hand and make the world stop spinning.

_Office of Alphonso Mackenzie_

_Professor of Ethics_

Mack looked up from his papers as she rushed in, banging the door against the wall, sporting a wild look in her eyes. He didn’t hesitate, dropping the papers to rest his hands against her shoulders, trying to steady her.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” There was so much genuine warmth and care in his eyes, she knew he would help her bury a body this second if she asked. She didn’t deserve him, or his care. 

Why, she worrying him for nothing!

His hands travelled her shoulders and arms, looking for something wrong, murmuring words of encouragement in his low voice. 

It was too much.

Air still wasn’t traveling down her lungs properly, Daniel had stolen her ability to breathe. He had kissed her and turned her into a shivering, pathetic, crazy mess. This wasn’t Bronte, this was Radcliffe -- all that was missing was for her to faint, for Daniel to lose an arm and for there to be a skeleton somewhere.

 _Jack Thompson,_ she really should have seen this coming.

She feels something soft, and a little bit scratchy, beneath her fingers. Next she feels his featherlight touch. The warm colors of his office start filling her vision, piece by piece, his voice filling the air between them. 

She is in the ratty old couch that she swears is more comfortable than her bed, the one she keeps threatening Mack that she is going to one day steal (only tried following through with the threat once.)

“I’m okay.” she ignores his scoff, shaking her head. “No, I’m serious. I just got… overwhelmed and I lost it for a second. Thank you.” her head finds that perfect resting place in his shoulder, where he can wrap his arm around her, she can listen to his heartbeat and not look at him as she talks. “I did something. Something I’ve been wanting to do for… _too long._ And it was even better than I had imagined it. But after it ended, I remembered why I had denied myself for so long, and reality wasn’t pretty.”

She counts one hundred and twenty heartbeats before she feels his chest contracting, his question coming a second later. “What did you do?” 

“I kissed Daniel Sousa.”

Daisy flails on the couch, holding on to the back so she doesn’t roll to the ground, because Mack suddenly stands up, turning to face her with an incredulous look in his face. “You had a small panic attack because you kissed the guy you’ve been crushing on for a year?” He bends down, once again resting his hands on her shoulders.

“You really like him, huh? All of that, because of a kiss? Must have been one hell of a kiss.”

It really was.

“It wasn’t because of the kiss -- it was partly because of the kiss, it’s what he said later.”

“That was nice, but we gotta get you a breath mint?” he quips with a smile.

“No!” her fist connects with his shoulder. She wants to be mad, to be furious, to ask him to stop making jokes but he knew exactly what she needed. She starts laughing, shaking her head at him and when she stops, she can finally breathe normally again.

Comfortable silence envelops them, Mack lounging on the floor watching her, waiting. Anyone else it would have disturbed her, made her fidget and complain, she never liked being watched. His gaze had the opposite effect, it soothed her frayed nerves and told her that everything would be okay, because he would still be looking at her after she finished talking, that nothing she could say would drive him away.

So Daisy doesn’t rush, she sits in silence until she is sure she can form a coherent sentence. 

“He brought up the fact I stopped talking to him last year. Which reminded me of the _reason_ why I stopped talking to him, and it felt like a bucket of freezing ice water was dropped on my head. I had distanced myself from him, I was doing so well and in a few short weeks he peeled back all my walls.”

“Isn’t that good? He is a nice guy, you should give him a chance. Sure he can be a little… straight ahead, but that’s the least worst thing a guy could be.” She counts her heartbeats, counting twenty before he asks her what she has been dreading. “What was the reason?”

Nibbling on her lower lip, Daisy realizes she never explained to anyone what happened. “Unless he does it again. I thought I had his personality pegged last year, kinda old fashioned but sweet and dependable, little bit funny, little bit smug. I was wrong…” she can’t bring herself to say it.

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter, after today we will go back to our normal lives, we will have no reason to see each other every single day, he can go back to going on dates with other women and I can -- _focus on my work_.” well, that didn’t sound pathetic at all. 

Mack scoffs, the incredulous look still etched into his features. “What dates? Sure, I think Bobbi set him up once and Elena even tried getting him to go out with an old school friend of hers, but he doesn’t really go on dates, Daisy. He is too busy looking at you.” it doesn’t take an expert in Daisy’s invasion tactics to see that she isn’t letting herself see the truth, so he continues talking, hoping something breaks through that thick skull of hers. “You know, he tried to bribe me to find out who got you in the Christmas Gift Exchange. Mr. Boy Scout wanted to change so he could have you.”

She had gotten fuzzy socks and tickets to the Spy Museum in Washington from Hunter. What she remembers most of that night though, was feeling Daniel’s eyes following her most of the night, heavy and full of wanting. 

It had been a month after the _incident._ He had quickly understood that she had changed her mind about them once she stopped replying to his texts and accepting his invitations for coffee, giving her the space she was desperately trying to create between them. But that night, after she caught a glimpse of him, just watching her, trying to figure out what had happened, she was sure he was going to confront her.

He hadn’t though.

Making a scene was incredibly out of his style and he would never ruin the night for everyone else.

A part of her had wanted him to. Kept hoping he would drag her into a corner and demand answers so she could scream at him. 

(But most of all she wanted him to tell her she had read things wrong, wanted him to be the guy she had been falling for.)

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, all that matters is whether you like him.” 

She did. She had tried not to like him, had gone on dates with guys who could be perfect for her, and none of them had gotten close to eliciting the responde Daniel got from her. “What if I do?”

“Then you march back to his office and tell him that, but first you have to tell me what happened one year ago. Just so I can keep my perfect streak of romantic advice.” he nudged her again, and his happy inquisitive expression finally pierced through her block, and the words started tumbling out.

“He asked me out. After weeks of ‘non-dates’ where we would have coffee, spend hours talking to each other, he would walk me out, but he never made a move! Finally, just when I started to think that maybe I was reading all of it wrong, he asked me to have dinner.”

“I know, he wanted to know your favorite restaurants in the area, he told me. You lost me a lot of money when you didn’t go.”

“You never -- You know what? I’m not going to talk about that now.” she needed to finish this conversation, but her skin was buzzing, feet itching to run again. But back to him. “Well, uh, he asked me out, I said yes and he kissed my cheek.” it hadn’t been just another kiss though, it had lingered, carving promises into her skin about what was to come. “And then the next day I caught him hugging another woman --”

“ -- Hugging?” Mack interrupted.

“It wasn’t just any other hug, it was intimate. You had to see it, she practically threw herself into his arms, and he held her so close. It was clear he was in love with her, I was just a friend.” 

“Let me get this straight, the guy was practically taking you out on non-dates every other day, and the second he did one suspicious thing you dropped him with no explanation? That’s harsh, Johnson.”

“You don’t get it! I felt like I was intruding on a private moment when I saw them, and I was--”

“You were what?”

“Reading Jane Eyre!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling, the gears finally shifting into place on her mind. From a hug, her mind extrapolated a whole set of facts about him -- that he was lying, that he was with someone else. In that moment, she saw her life in a gothic lens, and despite her claims of preferring Anne Bronte above all, her yearly reading of Jane Eyre shifted her perspective wildly. 

_(And the book told through Bertha Mason’s lens definitely didn’t help.)_

She never decided who she was in the story -- was she Bertha, the madwoman in the attic, or was she Jane Eyre, fooled by a man’s clever lies? Both, perhaps. Jane, whose trust had been broken, who had been driven to the precipice of love, a whisper away from a life she had never seen before. And Bertha, driven mad as she sees her lover in the arms of another.

( _And Daniel, who probably did nothing wrong -- or maybe he was a bastard who was going to cheat on another woman with her -- was left in the dust, sporting a confused dazed expression)._

“Out of my office.” grabbing her by the arm, Mack dragged her to the door, her feet only skimming the ground. “I can’t believe you dragged that man through one year of suffering because you were reading a book filled with lies, so you immediately thought the most squarish guy in the world, was lying to you.” 

Mack grabbed her by the shoulders and looked down at her, after he dropped her in the corridor. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Go kiss him back.”

Daisy opened her mouth to protest, not ready yet to face Daniel after running out on him. And that was kinda rude! Her logic hadn’t been _that_ stupid, sure she can admit it wasn’t perfect (or even logical), but he spent weeks not making a move! 

Besides, the way Mack kept pushing her forward was suspicious. Eyes narrowing, Daisy poked him on the chest. “Got another bet?”

“Yeah.” he replied easily. “You’re gonna make up for all you lost me and more if you guys are together before the lecture starts. Go on. Stop being stupid.” 

“Stop being stupid, yeah. I can do that.” she nodded, eyebrows drawing together as she tried to come up with something to say, anything to explain her actions the past year and in the past hour.

_Sorry for running out. You see, what happens is that I like you so much, that you kissing me made me run into my best friend’s arms like a schoolgirl because if you break my heart again I’m going to have to transfer to another university because seeing you everyday is going to be too much?_

Okay, perhaps not that. But, yeah, something along these lines.

__

The door to his office was slightly open, giving her a peek inside. Daniel was pacing. He grimaced every few turns, stopping to adjust something in his leg, gripping his cane tightly. His hair was no longed perfectly combed to the side, it looked messy, like someone had run his hands through it too many times, and a few of his natural curls were starting to show. If she didn’t feel so guilty, she might have enjoyed the sight of him looking disheveled, but the pain in his expression was the only thing she could truly focus on.

She had done that.

Checking her phone, she breathes a sigh of relief that there is still twenty minutes before Professor Nakia is set to arrive. Hopefully that will be enough time to apologize to him and him out on a date.

If this whole episode in Mack’s office taught her something is that her feelings for Daniel are ingrained deeper into her heart than she thought. She has no choice but to give him a try.

And sure, luck rarely graced her with its warmth, but maybe, just maybe, she had truly misunderstood everything. She never wanted to be wrong this badly before in her life.

Daisy can see the second he catches sight of her. He stumbles midstep, stopping in his tracks, his body drawn tight. His emotions disappear behind a mask of indifference, but he can’t hide the emotion in his eyes, the pain shining in them is a knife to her throat and she has a fleeting thought of running away again. She swallows hard and steps into the office, closing the door behind her.

Maybe he won’t accept her explanation and this is the end, she did ignore him for a year and ran away when he kissed her, but at least she was going to explain herself. 

Daniel didn’t give her the chance though, in a bland tone he started talking about the lecturer, about the hall they had rented and whether Coulson was going to find the time to stop by -- he wanted to, but there was a big meeting today with some people looking to invest in the physics department. He rattled off the facts, looking in her direction but not at her, gaze unfocused and misted over.

“Daniel…” his voice cracks when she says his name, but he doesn’t stop talking about their schedule. She tries to step closer to him, but stops in her tracks when he _finally_ looks at her. The pain is still there, but it's the anger that roots her to her spot. 

“Don’t, please. I don’t need an explanation or an apology. You don’t feel the same way, you’ve made it quite clear.” except it's the opposite, she wants him so badly that she can’t articulate it, letting his words linger in the air. He clears his throat, wanting this conversation to be over. “So, Nakia --.”

“What restaurant did Mack recommend?” she interrupts. “Last year, when you were going to ask me out, Mack just told me you asked for a restaurant recommendation, so you could take me out on a date. Let’s go tonight.”

“You… You don’t need to do that because you feel bad for me. Let’s just forget this ever happened, we should focus on our jobs.” Daisy hates how resigned he sounds, he seems to be ready to accept things and move on, absolutely ready to think she is only asking him out because she feels bad for him.

“That’s not it! That’s not it at all. I want to go out on a date with you, I really do.” at his scoff, she finally closes the distance between them, resting her hands on his chest. “Seriously.” His eyes slid shut as he pushed down the urge to rest his hands on her waist.

She reaches up to cup his cheek, leaning up slightly she places a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I like you too. I like you a lot.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry for running out earlier.” she skips over his lips and presses a kiss to his other cheek. “That’s not how I imagined our first kiss was going to go.” She stops when his eyes flutter open to peer down at her, longing etched into his features for all to see.

“You thought about our first kiss?” a shiver runs down her spine at his husky tone.

“A few times, yeah.” she nods, pressing closer to him.

They stand like that, small smiles curling on their lips, his hands slowly finding their way to her waist, while she still clings to him, afraid he is going to push her away again. 

She remembers Mack’s words, that they need to be together before the event for him to win the bet. And because she loves her best friend so much, she kisses the man she has been pining after for a whole year.

This kiss is deeper, slower, than the one before. She kisses him with the intent of showing him all she feels for him, and he kisses her back like he has never wanted anything more in his life. 

When he pulls away, she peppers kisses across his jawline, basking in his groan when she nibbles at his jaw. He kisses her one more time quickly before taking a step back, keeping his hands on her body, anchoring both of them (he dropped his cane sometime ago, and Daisy thought that if he stopped kissing her, she would lose everything.)

“Can I just,” he starts, panting slightly, “why did you pull away? Not today, last year. I need to know.” at her worried expression, he adds, trying to soothe her. “Just so I don’t screw up again.”

She smiles a bit, but her expression is still clouded over. After her talk with Mack, she doesn’t know how to explain what happened to her without sounding like a raging lunatic. And she doesn’t want to lose him. 

“I saw you with another woman and I guess I just panicked.” she shrugs, playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I really liked you.”

“Another woman?” She can see the gears shifting on his mind, and is a bit happy at how long it takes him to remember the other woman. She is less happy that he starts laughing at her. His expression softens. Leaning down, he presses another kiss to her lips, still chuckling slightly. 

Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, he grins smugly. “You saw me with another woman and got jealous. I’ll have to remember that. That was Peggy, an old friend of mine. Her husband Steve was being shipped off to an active war zone. It’s his first tour, she didn’t know what to expect. I was trying to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.” 

“Oh.” she replies weakly, feeling completely rotten. Daniel was being his perfect selfless self, and she punished him for it.

The stupid smug expression was still shining on his face, he seemed entirely too pleased with the revelation. “Yeah.” 

“Shut up!” She protested slapping his arm. “I was serious!” 

“Of course you are. You were seriously jealous of me.”

“I was --” he swallows her next words with a kiss, and she melts into him. 

How did she let a year pass by? She could have been doing this, waking up next to him all of these months, and instead she let her mind twist the facts into a terrible lie. 

“Just to be clear, Peggy is an ex, but she is now one of my closest friends. I just can’t imagine you’d think I had time to have a secret girlfriend. I was spending all my time with you or teaching, where I was gonna get the time?” he asked pulling back, fingers caressing her lower back.

“Secret wife actually.” she whispered, after some time of delicious silence.

Bless him and his reading habits, it takes him half a second to smirk and tease her. “Mr. Rochester, huh? I can work with that.” her protests are swallowed by his lips again.


End file.
